Someone Who Cares
by TheHollowMoon
Summary: "Why not jump?" The thought kept occurring to him, so he wondered out to the balcony, to see if he could answer the question. But not everyone wanted the question to be answered.


**For anyone looking for Phan, please do not expect such content from this story. It was commissioned by a friend who does not ship Dan and Phil romantically (and frankly, neither do I).  
** **Anyway, enjoy!**

Dan woke with a start, welcomed back into consciousness by the darkness of his room.

He felt sweat uncomfortably sticking his shirt to his back, and his eyes wondered around his room trying to make out the form of his desk or wardrobe. But everything was pitch black; he held his hands up mere centimetres from his face, and still couldn't see them. He wondered briefly if this was what it was like to be blind.

He reached over to the nightstand by his bed, feeling for his phone. He unlocked the screen, and squinted for those few seconds where you forget how brutal the bright light of your screen is when you turn it on after dark. He faced the screen away from him, using it for the moment as a torch to illuminate the surrounding room. As soon as the light left the places around his room, they were once again engulfed in darkness. Once Dan was used to the light, he looked at the time on his phone and sighed.

 _4.37 a.m._

Another night wasted on nightmares and the incapacity to fall back into sleep once again.

So, in an attempt to distract himself from the darkness that seemed to reach out to him, and beckon him into the waves of nothingness, he stared at pictures on his phone.

Random photo. Selfie. Random photo. Random photo. Selfie.

It was funny how easy it is to fake a smile for a picture. It was just a movement of muscles that people somehow came to recognize as a sign of joy or friendliness. So easy to distort it into something horrific or cruel. So easy to use it as a mask to help your friends believe you're okay when you're really, really not.

Dan put his phone into the pocket of his pajama bottoms as he got up, and walked slowly towards his window. His eyes bored into the city of Manchester, which would be just as covered in an inky abyss as the room he was in if it weren't for the lights of lamps, cars and buildings. Or maybe the stars in between the void of space would illuminate the world. How odd that the lights people have invented block out the natural light of the sky, even though in his opinion the stars were far more beautiful than any street light. Then again, the world had a knack for blocking out what's truly beautiful in favour of their own ugly creations.

He looked down to the streets below, and took a (most likely incorrect) guess at how far down it was from his room, and if it would be enough to kill him were he to jump.

He hoped it would be enough.

Dan had been hoping that in the back of his mind for a while now. He wasn't entirely sure why he had started thinking in such a way; it's not like it popped up out of nowhere and took him by surprise. It felt like the thought had always been there, at the back of his mind since he could remember, slipping slowly to the front until he couldn't ignore it anymore.

To put it bluntly, he wanted to die.

There was no poetic way of putting it; after all, there's nothing poetic or beautiful about death or the willingness to embrace it. To want to simply close your eyes before your time and allow your life to slip away. What else was there? Of all the things Dan thought of, the one thing he was sure about was that there was no afterlife. He simply didn't believe it. It all sounded like something from a book.

Go to a nice place if you're good or a horrible place if you're bad?

Come back to this world in another form and completely forget everything you've ever done?

No, the idea of slipping into a void of darkness and simply never coming back seemed much more realistic.

And there was always the plus of not having any more fucking nightmares.

Oh yes, the nightmares. Did he want to think about the ones where he was surrounded by deformed and mutated faces in a world of darkness, or the ones where he gets chased by none other than a supernatural and unstoppable force? There were so many delightful and creative ones to choose from.

He chucked his phone back onto his bed, and wondered out into the hallway of the apartment. Usually the place had the background music of Phil's snores during the sleeping hours, but tonight there were none. The apartment was silent and dark, with only the sounds of the outside world to convince Dan he was really standing in the hall and not in another dream.

The thought occured to him again, whispering to him like a friendly suggestion in his head, _why not jump_?

For a while the thought made him feel guilty. What if he really did jump? What would his family do? What about his friends? Or Phil? He didn't have the excuse of "nobody loves me", so the irrational urge to jump made him feel even more like crap. Maybe he wasn't suicidal, maybe he was just being whiny and complaining, which he knew he had no right to do. He had a job and a home and a family and friends. In fact, how dare he feel sad! How dare he ponder his existence in this universe when he had people who relied on him! He should jump as punishment just for being so selfish!

And so the vicious cycle of thoughts would go on and on again in a loop. Sorrow, suicide, guilt, sorrow suicide...on and on it went, never ending, never breaking.

 _Why not jump_?

He took a hesitant step towards the balcony.

 _Why not jump_?

His next few steps gained speed and confidence.

 _Why not jump_?

The world was going to forget him anyway. His followers online would go and watch other Youtubers. His family would move on. Phil would find a new flat mate.

 _Why_

 _Not_

 _Jump_?

He opened the door, stepping outside and onto the cold floor. The air was freezing and windy, like it usually was. The sound of sirens going off, along with cars beeping and people yelling filled the air. Sirens. Dan imagined the kind of ambulance that would pick his body up from the ground and take him away. The backwards letters on the front, the seats in the back. _Would there even be an ambulance? I mean, I'd already be dead_.

He didn't climb up on the railing. He knew that if he was anything he was clumsy, and that doing that would result in him slipping and falling before he was ready. Though it would make his death have quite ironic symmetry with many aspects of his life. Clumsy, rushed and unprepared, not to mention done on impulse and at the last minute.

Instead, he pulled up a chair to the edge of the balcony, and stood up on it. He looked out to the night sky. Just over half of the moon was exposed, and clouds floated in puffs throughout the early-morning gloom.

Dan tilted his head back and closed his eyes, breathing in the chilly air.

So he was really doing this, then?

A pang of fear struck his heart, but just as soon as it appeared he supressed it, crushing it into a little box in the smallest corner of his very being until he no longer felt a thing. Just like everything else.

He put one sockless foot on the railing.

 _Why not jump_?

"Dan?"

His body froze at the sound of Phil's voice.

 _Oh, shit_.

"Dan, did you leave the balcony door open, it's freezing - " Phil stopped in the middle of his question.

He didn't turn to his friend. Instead, Dan continued to look out over the open city, so free yet so closely pushed together, each building like a tetris piece.

"Dan," the tone of Phil's voice was different this time, holding a note of seriousness very rarely found in him, "What are you doing?"

Dan lowered his head to the ground. Slowly, with uncertainty, he said, "I'd say that it's not what it looks like, but I really suck at lying."

"...Dan," He said again, this time Dan could have sworn he heard an edge of panic in the name, "Stop messing around. This isn't funny."

He turned to Phil then. "Wow Phil, I really look like I'm joking, don't I?"

 _Really_? _I'm about to commit suicide and I still can't top myself from being a sarcastic twat_?

"Don't do that - "

"Why not, Phil? Why the hell not?" He suddenly had an anger in his voice which neither of them expected, "Really, give me a reason why not because right now, I've got no reason to stay here!" For the first time in a while now, an almost-authentic smile appeared on Dan's face. The smile wasn't friendly in the least; to Dan, it felt demented and even maniacal. Was smiling usually a natural reflex when faced with death?

The smile drained from his face as he stared into Phil's eyes. He looked tired, but frightened, and on edge. Dan shook his head, "There isn't one, is there? There isn't a reason to stay alive."

He turned back to face the world. "There's never been a reaosn for this...for any of this..." He gestured to the world before his hands fell back to his sides. "For being alive. Never was, never will be. Why carry on?"

"To be happy."

Dan turned to him, confused. "What?"

"Didn't you say that yourself once? The point of living is to have a happy life, to be content." Phil shrugged, "If there is a reason, it's to not dwell in sadness or whatever and do what makes you happy. So just come down."

Dan shook his head again, "No. I'm not coming down."

"You have to come down."

"Not if I don't give a fucking fuck anymore!" He yelled, "All I do - all I can do - is sit and think about this world and question this fucking universe and the fact that I can never escape my death and that chances are I'm never going to achieve my dreams so what's the fucking point?!"

"There's no point in that!" Phil told him, trying desperately to reason with him, saying whatever would get his friend down from the balcony. "You don't need to question it - "

"You're right, I don't. I don't need to think at all. I don't need to live."

"That's not what I - "

"I don't need to be alive, because there's no point in it. No point in being alive because there's no point in it. Who cares? Does the universe care, Phil?"

Dan suddenly yelled out to the night sky, his voice being carried away by the wind and turning into a forgotten whisper, "Who cares if I'm alive or not?! Does the universe? Does life itself? Who the fucking hell cares?!"

A wave of silence rippled over the world. There they stood in the darkness, with no more words between them. But then.

"...I care."

Once again, Dan turned to him. Not in confusion, but in hope. Deep deep down, he was realizing, he didn't want to jump. But what else was there. "What?"

Phil took a breath, and repeated in a clearer tone, "I care about whether you're alive or not. I don't want you to die, Dan."

 _Why not jump_?

"Your mum doesn't want you to die. Your dad doesn't. And I don't. I really, really don't."

 _Why not jump_?

Dan turned more to his friend, slowly, unsure. Phil carried on, "Yeah, chances are the universe and all that don't really care or know or whatever, but that's not important. Our lives are what's important. Maybe not to the rest of the world, but that doesn't matter."

 _Why not jump_?

"What really matters, I guess," Phil told him, "Is what we do now. The world is just gonna keep turning, so we might as well make the best of our lives."

 _Why not jump_?

"Do you really believe that?" Dan asked him, quietly.

Phil nodded, smiling, "Yeah, I really do. And I think we can achieves our dreams, as long as we have people we can rely on." He took a tiny step forward, and slowly reached out his hand to Dan, "Like I rely on you. I might not even be here in this apartment still making videos. I might be in some weird boring job where I have to blow up balloons shaped like chairs all day."

Dan laughed at the randomness, "Is that even a job?"

"Who knows? Probably. My face would hurt so much if I had to do that all day. But you know what I mean."

Dan took Phil's hand.

The suggestion left his mind. He walked back into their apartment.

"Now," Phil said as he closed the balcony door behind them, "Neither of us are going back to sleep any time soon, so - "

Dan hugged him.

It wasn't some dramatic, glamorous embrace you see in films. It was just a hug.

"Thank you, Phil." Dan said, feeling his throat closing up, "Really. Thank you."

Phil hugged him back, patting him on the back. He pulled Dan away, holding him by the shoulders and saying, "Why don't I make hot chocolate and we put the TV on and watch that show we recorded? Yeah?"

He didn't trust his voice, so he simply nodded.

While Dan put the TV on and sat down, Phil turned on their kettle and left the room, much to Dan's confusion.

It wasn't untilt he last moment that Dan realized Phil had dumped a large blanket on him.

"Phil!" He said, finding an escape from the blanket.

"You looked cold, and that's not right. I'm the pale one, I should be looking cold." Was his logic.

Dan rolled his eyes as Phil walked back into the kitchen, to emerge once again with two large mugs and a pack of Maltesers (which he had already opened on a previous night. Every time, Phil. Every time.)

For a while the pair of them sat there in silence, wrapped in their individual blankets and facing the TV. The anime they watched featured some blonde curly-haired girl with cat ears fighting to the apparent death with some brunette sporting bunny ears. Typical Japan.

After about fifteen minutes into the show, Philput his arm around Dan's shoulders, telling him quietly, "Please don't do that again."

Dan turned to look at Phil, saying, "I - "

"No, don't say you're sorry. You shouldn;t have to be sorry. Just please don't do that again, and pleaseplease _please_ say something if you start thinking like that again."

Dan nodded, calmly, "Okay."

Phil smiled at him, before they both went back to watching TV.

. . .

Phil didn't leave the room until he was sure Dan was asleep.

He watched him out of the corner of his eye, glancing here and there, until Dan closed his eyes and relaxed. Phil sighed softly, unwrapping himself from his blanket cocoon and taking the mugs out to the kitchen. He gently placed them on the side, taking extra care with his movements. He was fully aware of how clumsy he could be, and the last thing he wanted to do was knock over something breakable and wake Dan up.

He switched off the big light in the room and made his way back to the sofa. He wrapped himself back up in the blanket, and placed his arm back around Dan. Dan's unconscious head lolled to the side and came to rest on Phil's shoulder.

Phil wondered to himself what they were going to do. Was he going to have to convince Dan to go to councelling? Is he still going to have it in him to make videos all the time? He really didn't know, and this left him with a sinking feeling of worry for his friend in his stomach.

But, for the time being, Phil didn't need to worry about that. For the time being, he could just sit there. For the time being he could relax.

At least until the sun came up, all was well.

 **The End**


End file.
